


It's Simple

by dreyars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreyars/pseuds/dreyars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inuoka’s relationship with Fukunaga is perfectly simple, as if they were always meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Simple

  Inuoka always used to think that things that were simple weren’t that great.  They really weren’t worthwhile. They were boring.  He never wanted a simple life, or a simple love.  Where was the excitement or the adventure?  What good could be said about anything that was only  _‘simple’_ ?

Fukunaga was anything but simple.  Unfortunately, Inuoka thought he was just that when he first met the older boy.  Fukunaga never spoke, and the array of his facial expressions ranged from blank to almost interested when someone brought up going to see a comedian downtown after practice one week.  But really, even if he was interested, Fukunaga never participated in weekly outings with the other guys, restricting himself to a routine of volley, school, and home.  His day to day was as simple as Fukunaga seemed.

He appeared simple, and Inuoka didn’t know how to handle someone who never made a sound.

The first time Inuoka noticed that Fukunaga was much more complex than he originally thought was on the bus ride home from their first practice match with Karasuno.  Normally, Inuoka would sit in the same seat as Shibayama, but his small friend was already excitedly conversing with Yaku about new training strategies when he climbed into the bus.  Inuoka had no choice but to hunker down in the last open seat next to Fukunaga, who was already napping against the window.

Inuoka finally felt tired enough to close his eyes for a few moments sometime after the sun goes down.  When he thinks he’s finally about to nod off, Inuoka feels a tap on his arm, barely enough to wake him but firm enough to get him to look over at his seatmate. 

When he turned, he saw that Fukunaga was awake and staring at him through the dark with wide eyes as he handed Inuoka his phone.  The screen was bright, cutting through the darkness as Fukunaga showed him a note he had just written.

_What do you call a pile of kittens?_

Inuoka lifted an eyebrow, not exactly understanding what Fukunaga was trying to do. Fukunaga looked at him expectantly, waiting patiently until Inuoka took the hint to scroll down.

_A meowtain._

Inuoka covered his mouth as he snorted, trying his best not to wake up their teammates.  A chuckle or two may have caused Kenma to turn around and give him a stink eye between the crack in the seats, but when Inuoka turned back to Fukunaga to ask him about the joke, he was already leaning against the window again, fast asleep.

Inuoka slipped Fukunaga’s phone into his pocket, reminding himself to give it back when they woke up in Tokyo in a half hour.  He bit his tongue and tried to hold in another laugh as he tried to push Fukunaga’s silly joke out of his mind.

It was goofy, and he knew he probably wouldn’t have wanted to laugh so hard if he had gotten more than a few hours of rest over the course of the past few days, but one silly joke was enough.

Enough to pique his interest and get him to pay a little bit more attention to his quiet senpai. 

If Fukunaga was a character in a book, Inuoka decided he would be the background character that no one noticed.  But that wasn’t right, even if it was true, because just by paying a little more attention, you’d realize how important he really was. 

Inuoka realized that Fukunaga deserved more than simple unsung praise after just a week of paying more attention to him.

Fukunaga was….different, yes.  But with that difference came a humble, unwavering presence that always put him right where he needed to be.  Whether it was receiving a ball when no one else was there, or catching the back of Shibayama’s shirt when he slipped on wet pavement outside of the gym.  Fukunaga praised people in his own quiet way with a pat on the arm that probably went unnoticed, and he showed the most expressive look Inuoka had ever seen when he praised him after serving a ball that led to their team’s victory.

His cheeks were red, and if he was more vocal, Fukunaga might’ve played it off as a flush from physical exertion.  But he didn’t.  He just nodded his head in thanks and scurried off to the locker rooms before going home.

It wasn’t a good word to describe Fukunaga. 

The way he went about being was so complex, that Inuoka doubted he would ever fully comprehend, even after two years of being on the same team.

The way he communicated, the things Inuoka realized he liked, just everything was much more intricate than the blank stare Fukunaga often showed to the world.

Sometime in their first year together, Inuoka realized his curiosity was more than that.  He found himself thinking about how cool Fukunaga was, even when they weren’t anywhere near each other.  He persuaded Fukunaga to come with the rest of the team to celebrate his birthday that first November, even though Fukunaga didn’t usually participate in things of that nature.  Inuoka told him that it wouldn’t be the same without Fukunaga there.  That, it wouldn’t matter as much or be as fun if they didn’t get to hang out together on his birthday.

He meant it, too, and urged Fukunaga to come with all the sincerity he could muster.

After that, it was all over.  Not in a literal sense, because Fukunaga was still very much a part of Inuoka’s life.  But the days of Fukunaga being a background character in Inuoka’s mind were over.  The days of Fukunaga sitting out or going home when the team decided to do something relaxing after practice were over.  The days of Inuoka thinking of Fukunaga as simply a senpai were long over.

Fukunaga stayed by his side through most of their team activities, gradually losing the need to be urged to stay.  Inuoka didn’t mind Fukunaga’s quirky presence, in fact, it often made his days much more fun when Fukunaga would come into his classroom during lunch and write jokes all over the pages of his notebook before going back to his own room. 

Fukunaga wasn’t simple, but the way they slipped from teammates, to friends, to something a little bit more was. 

Inuoka can’t remember the exact day that he walked Fukunaga home and their bumping hands turned into pinkies wrapped around each other. But it happened.

He also can’t remember when it was that Fukunaga finally felt comfortable enough to hold his hand instead of his pinky, but now, they can walk to and from school with their hands swinging between them.

He remembers the first time Fukunaga kissed his cheek, more so because of the surprise rather than because of some spectacle that led up to it.  No, it was so simple that it didn’t feel odd or rushed or uncomfortable.  He just wanted another, and maybe a little bit more.

It wasn’t very long before Inuoka decided that he liked simple, because maybe simple wasn’t bad.  Maybe, simple merely meant natural.  Like it all occurred without thought or effort.  They didn’t have to try to find the place they fit in each other’s hearts, it just happened without difficulty.

Maybe it wasn’t exciting, and maybe that was okay.  Inuoka always enjoyed every moment he spent with Fukunaga, even if it was just taking a nap on the couch after a long week of school.  Actually, that may have been Inuoka’s favorite thing to do with him.  Inuoka didn’t often take naps, and he rarely slept when Fukunaga started to nod off against his shoulder.  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy their time together.

They often spent time at Fukunaga’s house because his mother was always there, but stayed far enough away that Fukunaga wouldn’t feel uncomfortable showing affection.  They could hold each other on the couch without being bothered, and Inuoka quickly found himself loving this part of their relationship the best.

Sometimes Fukunaga would sit on his lap, other times they’d sit side by side.  But Inuoka’s favorite position had him laying against the arm of the couch with one leg stretched out so Fukunaga could lay comfortably across his body.  At his height, it wasn’t always comfortable to stretch out on a couch, but with Fukunaga curled against him, it never really bothered him when his foot or arm fell asleep. 

Fukunaga’s head would rest on his chest, and he tried to fight the sleep as they watched a movie together by tapping out messages on his boyfriend’s chest.  Sometimes, Inuoka could understand that the words he was drawing spelt out ‘I love you’, but other times, Inuoka didn’t realize Fukunaga was keeping rhythm with the beat of his heart until he relaxed and fell asleep.

His fingers would still, and his body would snuggle itself close and Fukunaga pressed the side of his face into Inuoka’s chest, and there was nothing else in the world that could make Inuoka happier in that moment. 

When he was sure his boyfriend was asleep, Inuoka would brush the hair away from his forehead, laughing to himself as Fukunaga sighed and wrapped his arms around Inuoka’s big body.  Not so long ago, Inuoka discovered that there was nothing better than to see Fukunaga with his guard down.  This view, of his relaxed face not shrouded by his constant empty look, was the best thing Inuoka had ever seen. 

He slept with his mouth open, lips slightly parted so that Inuoka could hear the soft sighs that always arose as Inuoka dragged his fingers through Fukunag’as hair.  Fukunaga would hug him tighter and try to scoot farther up his body, forcing Inuoka to employ all of his will power not to wake his sleepy boyfriend, even though he desperately wanted too.

The naps usually only lasted an hour at the most, because with each shift of fukunaga’s body, and with each adorable little face he made in response to his dreams, Inuoka’s self-control eventually wore thin. Sitting straight up, Inuoka always pulled Fukunaga onto his lap, jolting him out of his sleep with a shower of kisses specifically meant to open his sleepy eyes.

Inuoka would grin when he hears the sound that always hit his ears as sweet as a bell because he knew he was one of the few people that ever got to hear it.  Fukunga’s laugh barely ever rose above a giggle, but it always made Inuoka’s smile stretch across his entire face.  Well, until Fukunaga caught his face between his hands and silenced his own laughter and Inuoka’s teasing smile with a kiss. 

Inuoka always melted as Fukunaga kissed him.  He wasn’t short, but he always pulled Inuoka down to his level, his thin fingers splaying out on the sides of his face as he pressed short, sweet kisses to his lips until he was satisfied that Inuoka understood the way he felt. Inuoka would laugh and hug him, spinning him around in a circle as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because really, it was.  Being with Fukunaga just felt right, even if other people questioned it.  Their personalities were vastly different, yes, but sometimes, that just made it that much easier.  Fukunaga needed someone to liven up his routine, and Inuoka needed someone to bring him back to earth and show him that while he thought he needed something exciting, simplicity in all its forms was just enough to make him the happiest man on earth.

Simple wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t boring.  Simple was everything Inuoka ever could’ve asked for all rolled up into a perfect little person.

**Author's Note:**

> Sleepy lazy fic for my friend le-amewzing who drew the cutest little InuFuku pic for me a week or so ago. I had to return the favor because we've been squealing about how cute this ship is to each other for a while now. Inuoka is always in the background with a bright happy look on his face as he watches Fukunaga do something cool, how could we not ship it???


End file.
